


Abqaha Altnyn | Dragon's Keep

by bee_kind



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Character(s) of Color, Dubious Consent, F/M, Far Harad, Female Character of Color, Harad, Haradrim - Freeform, Human!Smaug, Major Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_kind/pseuds/bee_kind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a woosh of air and a snapping of what sounded like leather and a thud, and there he was. The demon that had decimated her sister’s warband and any hope Yusraa had for a normal life afterwards. But why was he here? In her hell? </p><p><i>Every jail needs a jailer</i>, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. <i>And every devil has a hell.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Damnation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Alright, so this is set in the same 'verse as Fracture, but not the same time period. Smaug has only had Erebor in his clutches for about 40 years now and is still very much active. In this fix, Smaug will be humanoid in appearance, Pretty much just Smaug!lock. The other character, Yusraa, is apart of a war band from Far Harad and much of her culture is going to be based off of ancient middle eastern cultures. I'm using Arabic for the language she and her people speak, but google translate can only do so much. If you catch something wrong, please let me know. Enjoy!

It had been her sister’s war band.  
  
That thought kept circling her mind over and over, even as she watched the bodies burning on spires of jagged rock, even as the mumakil trumpeted pitifully, cinders dancing in the burnt out husks of their bodies. Even still, as the demon circled overhead, roaring his triumph into the skies, she watched him, eyes wide with the knowledge that this had been her sister’s war band.  
  
They could not be defeated.  
  
They had swept up through Harad like a sickness, utterly crushing any who’d dare standing their way. Askasil was a warrior trained by the king of their people, their uncle, and more powerful than those who’d dare oppose her. She was to take the throne of the land when she came of age. She had passed every test, hurtled over every obstacle, and only one was left: she had to quest and bring back a treasure. While her commanders had searched through Harad, Askasil had set her eyes to the north, to the land of pale men and strange halflings, and to the fallen kingdom of the dwarves, to Erebor, the impenetrable castle of mountain rock. Her general had told her it could not be done, that a great demon slumbered within its walls, but she’d not heeded her. She’d ignored the warnings of her superiors and carried three hundred of her best men  around the coast of Eriador in ships, and then over vast, rolling grasslands to the Misty Mountains.  She’d set up her flag, bloodred with the emblem of a roaring lion crouched in attack emblazoned across it. She’d mocked the demon, calling it cowardly for hiding away, questioning its strength and power, asking if it was a true dragon after all.  
  
Its claws had torn her head from her body shortly after.   
  
The demon had carried her sister’s head into the air, face still contorted in a mask of rage and thrown it down. Its body had blotted out the sun, turning midmorning into the blackest night. It had spread its wings, more powerful than a hurricane, looked down at them with eyes of fire and slain them all. All except her.   
  
Yusraa had hidden, and she was not ashamed. She’d cowered behind a blackened stone wall while all around her, her comrades and kinsmen were slain. She could hear their screams, hear the cries of  their animals, but she could do nothing to help them, not when she felt dragon’s flame licking at the stones, turning them red hot. From her post she could see the demon, its wings flapping powerfully as it ascended like a burning angel of judgement. It gave a final powerful thrust and let out a roar so loud that it shattered the glass ornaments her comrades wore around their necks. The shieldmaiden clapped hands over her ears and dropped her head between her knees, trying to keep her head from coming apart from the sheer force of the noise. Her ears pounded with the remnants of it, and it wasn’t for another minute that the last rumbles receded from the ground.   
  
It had been her sister’s warband, and now it lay decimated on the sharp slopes of Erebor, the snow red with its blood, ash falling from the sky like black rain. This was the end for her. They could no longer protect her. Before her sister’s lust for gold, before this fool’s errand, Yusraa had trained with her sister, practicing with the spear and the longbow while her sister preferred the scimitars and broadswords of her uncle’s sons. She’d never been the best at them, despite being a recognized warrior, but Askasil had swept through any opponent with the undiscriminating fury of a sandstorm. Man or beast, she would suffer nothing to stand in her way and live.  
  
And this red _demon_ had ripped her head off as if she were naught but a novice, playing at being a warrior. Yusraa felt dread pool in her belly, cold and thick against the familiar heat of her armor. She was terrified and the dragon was circling, checking for any survivors. She knew her moments had been counted, and she’d be returned to her ancestors in the stars soon, but that didn’t stop tears from rolling down her face, or from her hands shaking as she clutched the spear tighter. If Askasil had been torn and thrown aside like a broken doll, then surely she didn’t stand a chance.  Her elder sister had always been the strongest of the two of them, rushing headlong into battles, chopping all of their hair off to make it easier for them to fight, silencing all the smaller bands who dared oppose her. Yusraa had been the thinker. A _hkim-almharb_ \- a sage warrior. She’d not been meant for the heat of battle, and had only been brought along with Askasil because their uncle had ordered it. The future Shahd would’ve preferred her sister safe and at home.  
  
There was nowhere safe now. The demon had been awakened. It landed with a heavy thud on the snowy mountainside and let loose another roar, quieter this time. It was a roar of victory, not one of battle. It grunted to itself, seemingly satisfied and began slowly tramping forward, its tail dragging behind it in the snow. It was moving closer ever so slowly. Yusraa couldn’t bring herself to look. Cold-stiffened fingers circled tighter around her spear, so tight she thought the metal pole might snap in half. Tears streamed down chapped cheeks and she let out a whimper as she heard the beast toss aside a wagon as if it were nothing. It clattered down the hill, the bodies in it tumbling boneless after. It was only a few lengths away now, ripping the gold ornaments from a mumakil’s ears. She’d heard the thing adored precious metals.   
  


It was a length away, staring it itself in a mirror, brow furrowed as it tossed its head this way and that. It bared its teeth at its reflection, smirking in satisfaction at what it saw shone back. Its teeth were wicked sharp and white as bone, inch and a half long knives that could tear her flesh easily. She whimpered and the beast’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed and he rose, stretching out to his full, intimidation height. Yusraa bit into her lip so hard she tasted blood and waited. Maybe he’d decided he’d been imagining things, go back inside his mountain and leave her to pick her across middle earth and try to find a way home. The dragon took a step in her direction. She was not so lucky. With a second, he was upon her. He tossed aside the wagon she’d taken shelter behind and hauled her into the air with minimal effort.

Yusraa clutched at her spear and pressed the tip against the monster’s chest, eyes wide and hands shaking. It dangled her in the air with one arm, the claws on the other sliding from behind their sheaths to gut her.  She clenched her teeth together and rammed the spear into his skin as hard as she could, the tip shattering and leaving not a mark on him.   
  
He growled with a voice like an earthquake, amber eyes like sunfire narrowed as he hissed up at her. She’d known she was dead the moment the beast had shown itself, but the inevitability of her demise weighed more heavily on her now. This creature was death incarnate; what chance had she of besting him? He snatched the spear shaft from her hand and threw it aside. Though she knew it wouldn’t save her, she longed for it back if for no other reason than to give her the feeling of dying on her feet.  
  
Here, in the silence of the mountain, the snow glimmering in cold sunlight, the bodies of her sister’s warband around her and a demon holding her in to the sky, she knew it wouldn’t matter how she died. If someone ever found their bodies, they’d all just be nameless, faceless Haradrim. She murmured a prayer to her ancestors and closed her eyes. The demon was lifting his claws. It’d all be over soon. She didn’t want to be forgotten. She didn’t want to die alone.

_**SLASH!** _

A brief flash of light blossomed behind her eyelids and she knew nothing but darkness.

* * *

Her head ached.  
  
That was the only thing she could think of. Not that she’d reached the afterlife, not that she’d be seeing her sister again very soon, but that her head ached like an entire calvary’s worth of mumakil had been tramping over it. Yusraa groaned and curled into a ball. Wasn’t this place supposed to be void of any pain and suffering? That was what she’d been told by the priests in her homeland. Then again, the priests of her homeland had told them their quest would be a success. They’d probably wanted only to fill their coffers and build grander palaces of worship. She’d definitely make sure she haunted them, if the gods allowed it. Maybe she could show up still burning with the fire of the dragon, holding Askasil’s head under one arm, the broken body of her sister treading beside her. She let out a laugh at the grim picture and stretched. For being the afterlife of those who’d died in battle, Mjalat-Alslam was quite cold. And hard. This level of the afterlife was supposed to be nothing but open, rolling fields, warm sun and food for miles. She’d be surrounded by all the spirits of her people’s best warriors and they’d take their leave of the war ravaged world together. It was supposed to be warm. Yusraa opened her eyes.

Not full of gold. Not totally devoid of life.  
This place was not the open field she’d been promised, but a wasteland of pretty baubles and towering stone walls.   
She’d been sent to Altkfyr, the place of penance.   
  
The young woman rose slowly, gold coins tumbling away from her, down to the base of the massive pile she’d woken on. Gold and treasure stretched on as far the eye could see without break. There were tapestries woven in gold, statues of silver half exposed in the sides of piles, there were gold coins, billions upon billions of them, all glittering like fallen stars under the light of one massive, tiered chandelier that hung from the ceiling, lit on every level. This had to be the hell of the greedy. Those who spent their entire lives searching after material wealth instead of helping others with it were banished here, to Altkfyr, and given all the possessions they could possibly have imagined. Wealth beyond measure- and no one to stare upon its glory or share it with. A personal hell complete with deafening silence.   
  
But she’d not been greedy. Her meager possessions could all be fit into the single pack she’d carried on her back from the south all the way up to the land of the pale-skins. A pack that was, even now, strapped to her back. The only thing she’d ever carried that could not fit into it were her spear and her armor, and those belonged to the kingdom. Had she died in the land of her people, the armor would’ve been boiled and issued to a new recruit to save both money and the time of the blacksmiths. What was this then? Had there been some vast oversight in her character that she’d ignored? Had she misstepped in assuming she’d be sent to the land of the battle weary and torn? Perhaps she’d not been greedy in possessions, but in time. She should’ve worked harder, should’ve devoted more time to her studies and helped the beggars more often. This was her own fault. This was her burden to bear for the rest of eternity.   
  
Yusraa moved to sit back down on the heap of gold, but a grouping of coins gave way underneath her feet and she slipped. There was a sound like a thousand bells tinkling at once as she fell, treasure after treasure following after her. She let out a shout and tried to right herself to no avail. She tumbled over an unsheathed golden dagger, and while the blade was dull, it still cut into her. Apparently in this place pain could still be felt. She’d no idea how to stop the fall; the land of her ancestors was relatively flat. She’d never climbed hills or tumbled down mountains, golden or otherwise. Just as she was reaching the bottom and about to hit her head on an exposed slab of concrete, something caught her round the middle and tossed her roughly onto a pile of tapestries. She landed hard, on her backside, but better that than on her head and unforgiving stone.

There was a woosh of air and a snapping of what sounded like leather and a thud, and there he was. The demon that had decimated her sister’s warband and any hope Yusraa had for a normal life afterwards. But why was he here? In her hell?   
  
_Every jail needs a jailer_ , a voice whispered in the back of her mind. _And every devil has a hel_ l.

 **  
**Fear dripped icy down the back of her throat and her hands shook. Surely the gods couldn’t have been so cruel as to curse her to an eternity with this beast. For that’s what he was in truth: a beast. He stood three heads taller than her, every piece of skin tanned and diamond-hard. Red scales dusted his abdomen and lower back  twisting around powerful thighs and thinning out on his shins. They curved up over the backs of his arms and shoulder blades, wrapping his shoulders in a cape of red. His spine was ridged, black scales sharp as knives lying flat for now. From the base of his back extended a tail, long and thick and done in the same red as his scales. She’d seen him sweep ten men off their feet with a single sweep and watched him squeeze the life out of another with it while he ripped into some poor soul with his claws. His claws --her eyes flickered to his hands--  they were sheathed for now, but when extended were two and a half inches long and wickedly sharp. The light armor of her comrades hadn’t stood a chance. The warrior’s eyes wandered up to the demons face. If not for the horns curling a top a mass of black curls, one would’ve almost thought him to be elven. His features were angular, with a jaw that looked like it was made for crushing. She knew he hid teeth like knives behind his lips. Another inch upward and she met his eyes. He had eyes like a wildfire leveled on her. The only time she’d seen a gaze this intense was on the face of one of the lions her uncle kept as guards- and eventual pets, once they became too old to do their duty.  
  
Before she’d left with her sister on this fruitless mission, her uncle had been training a young male, Kato, she believed his name was. Every morning for two hours, her uncle would stand and hold a beef flank above the lion’s nose. If Kato sat patiently, he was rewarded. If not...well, she’d never seen an animal disobey a direct order from the Shahd. Kato never jumped before he was supposed to, but the look in his eyes as he sat there watching that meat was deeper than the look of any starving man or fervent warrior. It was the look of a predator, staring down prey and being told he couldn’t devour it, not just yet. Yusraa gnawed at the inside of her lip, waiting for the beast to fall upon her. Instead he took a step forward.   
  
She hissed and bore her teeth at him. If she were to be trapped here for an eternity, he would have plenty of time to torment her. She reached back in the pile she sat on, hands searching for the knife that had drawn blood from her arm. Lithe fingers closed round it and she brought it to her front, all pretenses of fear seemingly banished for now. This demon had already taken her life and damned her to a hell. What more could he take from her?  
  
The demon growled and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth, and the warrior braced herself for the wave of fire that was no doubt about the lick at her flesh, but the demon did something that surprised her. He spoke.  
  
His voice rippled, calm and clear and deeper than any well. She couldn’t understand a word he was saying. His speech sounded harsh and thin, like the pale men from the north, and she’d never bothered learning any of their tongues. A foolish omission on her part. His tone was clipped and he sounded...disgusted with her, as if her mere existence was an abomination. His attitude was returned in kind by her sister. Askasil had believed that demons, dragons like this especially, were created when humans were burned at the exact moment of their greatest sin. They were the unholy offspring of evil and death, and needed to be executed without discretion. Yusraa wasn’t sure what she believed. At the moment, she just wanted to escape this ordeal without being harmed. He’d have her for the rest of eternity, surely he could put off his punishment until the morrow.  
  
“I...” Her voice sounded small and weak in comparison to his, shaking pitifully as she tried to address him. She cleared her throat and forced her words to ring clear. “I don’t understand you, I’m sorry.” He narrowed his eyes at her and , and she saw the white flash of his teeth, temporarily exposed. The beast appeared annoyed with her, and he showed his irritation blatantly. He said something else and she shook her head. She’d only been instructed in the languages of the south, and a few from their eastern cousins, but all the tongues she spoke lay within Harad and she’d not ventured any further.   
  
He turned and began striding away from her without so much as a backward glance. The girl scrambled to her feet and tried to follow, but the demon shot her a look of pure venom. He hissed something cruel to her, something short and brutal. The end of his words twisted into a growl, and he spread massive wings, his size dwarfing her. He blocked out the wavering lights of the chandelier and stared down at her with slitted eyes. For a terrible, silent moment, Yusraa thought he was going to lash out at her again, and seriously injure her this time. Her death had been quick -nearly painless, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel anymore. The gash in her arm was testament enough to that.  She took a step back, into a defensive position, but when the monster closed the difference, she took another, and then another, gilded knife clutched firm between dark fingers. The monster loomed, his wings fanning out. If she had to guess, she’d say that this was a sign of dominance. Like the lions of her homeland who puffed themselves up when asserting their leadership, this demon was doing the same.   
  
He growled deep in his throat, glittering teeth bared at her as his voice ripped free from his mouth, forming one compelling word.   
  
“ _ **Stay**_.”   
  
It seemed to reverberate deep in his chest, and before Yusraa had time to weigh the consequences of disobeying, the demon had pushed away from the ground in a whirlwind, the power of his wings knocking her on to her back. He ascended quickly, toward the vaulted ceilings of his keep, and by the time the warrior managed to lift her eyes to track him, he’d disappeared from view, leaving her to spend the night among the glittering jewels and the silence.


	2. Conversations with a Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back to read the next chapter of Abqaha! I appreciate it.

Yusraa woke to the cold, and it was not a pleasant waking. It seeped deep into her bones, the effort of stirring making her more lethargic than sleep would have.  
  
Her body ached.  
  
From what she couldn’t recall, though she did suppose sleeping on the rocking deck of a boat for several months could-  
  
A trickle of gold coins slipped over her hand as she sat up and she remembered. She remembered the battle, falling off of her mumakil and her sister’s beheading. She remembered hiding from the demon as it slaughtered her comrades. She remembered the heat of his breath. She remembered him taking her life. And she remembered waking in this glittering hell with naught but a demon to keep her company.   
  
Before she could stop it, a sob wrenched itself from her throat and echoed round the vast chamber, mocking her a thousand times with its weakness. She buried her face in her hands, the gravity of her situation finally descending on her. She was trapped in a hell. She was trapped in a hell, and there was no escape. In all of her studies, she and her fellow students were warned against ending up in one of the seven hells, but never had they been told what to do upon finding themselves in one. She was in hell, and her friends were all dead. Another cry wracked her body and she surrendered to her grief. She almost didn’t notice the sound of wings flapping over her tears.  
  
Almost.  
  
Yusraa’s blood ran cold and she wiped her eyes, looking up toward the darkness to try to catch sight of her jailer. She could not, which meant he was likely still far above her. She had time before he came closer. The warrior turned on to her knees and began searching in vain for the knife she’d fallen asleep with the night before. She combed through the pile of gold, flipped over the tapestry she’d slept on and emptied out coffers, but couldn’t find it. The beast must’ve returned some time in the night and taken it from her.   
  
There was a dull thud and a brief tinkling as dislodged gold coins tumbled to the bare stone floor. The Haradrim clenched her jaw and turned, dread slowing her movements. There, crouching a few lengths above her was the demon, tawny golden eyes leveled on her. He loomed, hunched shoulders and bent limbs doing little to shrink his form. The dragon uttered a small growl in the back of his throat, another one of his strange words, she suspected. She narrowed her eyes. The beast rose and bound his wings against his back, only the clawed tips showing over his powerful shoulders. His body was bare as it had been yesterday on the mountain, not an inch of vicious muscle hidden. He walked upright, despite the weight of his wings on his back, and held his head aloft,  eyes like flame staring down the bridge of his nose at her.   
  
  
Yusraa stared back.   
  
The dragon strode down the pile of gold and toward her, as if the riches at his feet were of as little consequence as ants under a sandal. She shrank from him, fists closed and teeth bared as he reached for her. If this demon insisted on torturing her, she wouldn’t make it easy. The dragon’s eyes narrowed and he huffed, two tendrils of smoke floating from his nostrils. He reached out for her again and she did the only thing she could do.   
  
She ran.  
  
Growing up in the vast grasslands of Umbar had made her swift. She could outpace most of the northern men who travelled down to the edge of the Dune Sea in footraces, and had even bested a horse lord of Rohan once, but all of her speed was nothing to the dragon who knew these hills and stone floors. His stride was much wider and his steps swallowed her’s up. The dragon leapt on her, his weight sending her crashing to the ground with little resistance.  Yusraa gave a screech like something out of the deepest hell and writhed, trying to free herself from his grasp. It was useless; he had one arm locked over her hips and another barred across her chest. He rolled to the side and flipped her on to her back, roaring into her face.   
  
His breath was pure heat and reeked of ashes. Teeth made for tearing jutted out only an inch from her face, wickedly sharp and serrated, gleaming like small knives. The noise was enough to shatter glass. Yusraa squeezed her eyes shut and tried to lift her hands to her ears to siphon off some of the sound. The demon snatched her both her wrists and slammed them into the stone above her head, nearly yanking her arms out of their sockets. It was only when she cried out that the roar softened to a low growl, rippling deep in the demon’s throat. The pressure lightened slightly on her wrists, but her relief quickly soured. His claws had pressed through the braces on her wrists and broken her skin. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t injured her further, but the small punctures would still ache, and she had nothing to wrap them with. She supposed it didn’t matter. She surely deserved whatever pain she experienced; this was the lot of those who found themselves in a hell.   
  
Her thoughts were cut short by the feeling of a rough hand twisting her arm. Yusraa could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears, breaths shaky. Was he going to break it? Was he going to tear it off? She clenched her jaw and prepared for the worst, dread turning her blood to ice water.

She waited for pain to come for what seemed like an eternity, the sound of her captor's deep breathing the only thing marking time. Finally, finally she felt him shift and move his head closer to her, breath like steam charging the air. He made a sound like a huff of annoyance and she let one eye crack open.

The demon was staring intently at the gash on her arm with what looked like frustration furrowing his brow. He muttered something under his breath at her in that strange, flat language. He lifted himself slightly and started uncliling himself from around her, his head moving lower as he shifted. He was taking his time, whatever he was doing, and seemed to be striving to make her uncomfortable. His head reached her stomach and in a moment of panic, her leg jerked up, her knee hitting him square in the chest. It was a blow that would've left any human opponent gasping for breath and quite frequently had, but the demon didn't even flinch.

Golden eyes flicked up toward her and a growl rolled through his throat, a clear warning for her to stay put. She clenched her jaw and did as he'd implied. It wasn't as if she had much of a choice; the beast was using his weight to keep her pinned. If she was totally honesty with herself, she was terrified. There had been times in her youth, during the training of the great cats her uncle kept, where one of the lions had gotten a bit too rough or played too hard, and she'd end up pinned, but never like this. There had been an uncurrent of sillyness in their pinning, and the cats had often licked her face or searched her for treats. There was no such tone in this. The demon was using all of his weight, pressing so that she could barely breathe, leaving no room for the questioning of who was the leader of this dynamic.

Yusraa watched him. If she hadn't known better, she could've almost let herself believe the beast was checking her for injuries. The way he was examining her was meticulous. He ran lithe fingers over her thighs, down her knees and around the backs of her calves. He traced them up over the swell of her hips and over her stomach, palming her ribcage, the tips of his claws leaving pinpricks of pain every few inches to remind her just how vulnerable she truly was. With every inch of skin he traced, she felt what little boldness she had shrink untilt here was nothing left in her but a black fear, darker and more base than any she'd ever felt. She was at the mercy of this monster.

He spoke to her again, his voice rippling deeper than anything she'd heard before. He seemed to be berating her in chatter she couldn't make out and she covered her ears. The demon growled in frustration and something darkened in his eyes.

The dragon let his claws slide out once more, and without hesitation, he sank them into her breast plate and pulled. The metal hissed and screeched as it was ripped apart and tossed aside. The demon hadn't just wanted to removed her armor; no, that could've been accomplished simply by tearing off the straps. He'd wanted to ensure that she was entirely without protection. Yusraa shrieked as cold air hit her, the warmth of the dragon doing little to shield her from the frigid air that permeated the cavern.

She bit back the tears she could feel welling in her eyes. This beast wanted her weak and showing him that simply taking something of her's away could break her, he wouldn't even have to hurt her. She couldn't be weak now. What had Askasil said? 'Nothing worth fighting for was ever won with tears and pretty words.' Wasn't her existence worth fighting for? Wasn't it? If she was cursed to spend the entirety of it in this hell, then at least she could accept it with the dignity and grace of an Umbarian warrior. She showed him her teeth in as much aggression as she could muster with her heart pounding against her ribs.

He snorted and rolled off of her suddenly, rising and shaking out his wings. Yusraa satrted sliding back away from him, trying to scrabble to her feet, but he uttured a low growl and one of the few words he seemed to know in her tongue. "Stay."  The Haradrim hissed under her breath and rose slowly anyway.

Golden, slitted eyes watched her as she moved, narrowing when she took another step backward. She was testing him, and he didn't appreciate it. The demon growled and with lightning speed, closed the small distance between them, bumping her back a foot. He slapped his tail against the ground, the whip-like crack echoing around the cavern. "Stay!"

"I will not!" The venom in Yusraa's voice suprised even her. Her jailer narrowed his eyes and moved forward slowly, but she held out her hands as if they alone would keep him at bay. "I will not." She repeated, calmer this time. The dragon was looming in front of her, teeth half bared in a snarl as he stared down at her. There was nearly a foot and a half difference between them, and the Haradrim was by no means short. She stood level with most of the northern men, but this creature born of fire and fury made her appear naught but a child. She swallowed hard.

"I am trapped with you in this place, but you cannot restrict my ability to move around it." Technically, he could. He could snap both her legs with little thought, and where would that leave her? "I will walk where I wish." She added a small snarl to the end of her words, something that seemed to irritate the dragon. He tightened his jaw and frowned down at her.

 **  
**"Stay." He rumbled again. Yusraa resisted the urge to scream in frustration. This dragon understood nothing of what she'd just spoken. Just as she was about to do as he said out of defeat, her jailer spoke again. "Stay...wait." The round, thick tongue of her people did not fit his mouth, made for speaking the language of the northerners. The dragon dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder and made her sit down on the stone floor. "Wait." The Haradrim pushed his rough hand away from her and rose.  
  
“I will not.” She insisted once more. “I will not wait.”  She met his eyes and for a brief moment, she thought they’d reached some sort of understanding.   
  
And then he snatched her into his arms and the ground plummeted away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment? Kudos? Anything? Please, I'm in desperate need of feedback for this story. And maybe a beta reader.


	3. A Forked Tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, I'm just aggressively avoiding doing work on Aburik and AYOLD and ninety-seven other fics. Anyway, here, have this short chapter.

For a moment it seemed that the whole hall had been torn out from under her and sucked into the darkness that no doubt lurked just outside the thick stone walls. It was dizzying how quickly they ascended; within seconds the entirety of the ground had been reduced to little more than a shimmering golden heap. She hardly had time to think about it before she was being shifted and dumped onto one of the thick wooden beams than ran across the higher space in the ceiling.    
  
She grunted as the wind was knocked out of her and rolled over onto her back, clutching her stomach. Yusraa had only a moment’s reprieve before a heavy thud heralded the dragon’s landing. She forced herself upright and glared at him. For his large size, the demon had impeccable balance, and he stood with his head erect and spine taut. He carried himself with an air of pride and deep dignity, almost like a royal. He possessed something like beauty, but the ferocity of his nature and the steady burning of his gaze made him hard to meet eyes with. The Haradrim did not look away. She would not be afraid of him.    
  
A growl made the demon’s lips curl and she returned his expression, fists clenching into claws. The beast jerked his head back, and for a sickening moment, she thought he was going to launch himself at her and topple them both over the edge. His wings would save him, but she had no safety net. If she fell, she would die- no. She was already dead. It would hurt, very,  _ very _ badly then. She waited for the dragon to retaliate in some quick violent action, but instead he laughed. He  _ laughed _ , and it wasn’t some quiet hissing, or harsh like one would expect from so overgrown a lizard. It was deep, and full, and for a moment almost sounded human.  He hurled some phrase at her she didn’t understand, but the lilt of his voice made it clear he was mocking her. Yusraa gathered saliva and spat at his feet, disgusted.    
  
The dragon’s smile dropped slowly, his expression becoming unreadable. She shifted back a few inches, immediate regret coursing through her. She’d reacted too quickly, hadn’t thought before acting. She was turning into her sister. The warrior scrambled back further, but found her back pressed against stone, hard and unforgiving. There was no minimum safe distance from this beast, she knew that and the wall at her back made that painfully clear. He slunk toward her, tail dragging against the wood of the beam, wings open slightly to help him keep his balance and his head low. This far away from the chandelier that lit the cavern, they were steeped in shadows and his eyes glowed like embers in the half-light. 

He stooped, down to where she was, his face mere inches from hers, his breath hot on her face. His eyes were like molten gold and she couldn't quite meet them, try as she might to put on a brave face. She should’ve done as he said, stayed and waited, like he asked. He might’ve left her be, let her spend more time on her own. Thus far, the demon had been aggressive, yes, but he had doe her no great harm since her death. That was surely about to change. The demon was crowding her vision and she felt her chest constrict with fear. Yusraa turned her head away, but he yanked her back, a massive hand cradling her jaw. His claws were pressing into her cheeks, just short from breaking the skin.

She tugged her head back, trying to get out of his grip, but he held her fast. He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes seeming to stare into the depths of her soul. Yusraa closed her eyes, but she couldn't do anything about the force of nature that was his voice. His words rolled through her, making her tense: “Stay. Wait.”    
  
“You took my family and my people away from me. You trapped me here and you have my life. Isn’t that enough?” Who was she, to reason with a demon? He shoved her backward with a low growl in his throat. He slammed his hands down on either side of her head, his claws splintering wood. So surprised was she that she let out a yelp and nearly fell off the beam, would have, had the dragon’s body not stopped her descent. He couldn’t understand her, that much she knew, but the tone of questioning in her voice was enough to set him off apparently.    
  
“Stay.” He ordered, his breath hot on her face. Yusraa ground her teeth together and kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “ **_STAY_ ** .”  He roared and Yusraa fought back the urge to cry. Dead or not, Warrior or not, this beast was terrifying and fully capable of causing her great pain. She opened her eyes slowly and lifted her hands in an effort to appease him. Seemingly placated for the moment, he let his claws retract.  He rose, and turned, wings stretching as he prepared. To leave the beam.  “Wait.” He ordered once more and the Umbarian hung her head.    
  
“I will wait.” And the beast was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still looking for a beta reader if anyone's interested.


	4. Contention

In Umbar, they kept time by the sun. When she was little more than a youngling, she'd learned to tell what part of the day it was by the position of that great ball of fire in the sky. It had become second nature and if she could view the sun, she could tell the hour.

There was no sun in Altkyfr, nothing for light but dim candles on massive chandeliers that never ran low, not even a crack in the craggy walls. She doubted she'd have look had there been some sort of window to the outside. No one could glimpse that heavy darkness and escape with their mind intact, she was sure. This place was born of the dark and the lights that were present were an intrusion. There was no sun and no sky for it to sit in, and thus no way for her to tell how many hours she'd spent cursing the demon, how many days in silent protest.

She knew she could go three days without sleep, had tested herself with Askasil when they'd still been young, and knew that afterward she slept for a full day. It had been terrifying at first, to find herself dozing off on the wooden beam, nearly tipping off from throwing her weight off balance, but she'd learned to disregard it. When she was tired she slept, when was angry she cursed the demon and when she was hungry, she carved stories of her homeland into the beam with her nails. To keep herself sane, she screamed at the dragon.

The demon ignored her and all her curses.

She didn't know how long it took her to break. On the beam, minutes seemed to last eternities and whole days flew by in the space it took her to take a breath. She might have been there for an hour, or an eternity might have passed her by.

"Demon?" Her voice echoed out over the vast cavern, repeating itself endlessly, mocking her with it’s trembling. She didn’t sound like herself. Her voice was rough and weak, lips cracked and dry from going without water for some. "Demon!" There was no reply. Was he sleeping? Surely not, demons had no need for sleep. The hall was silent, her ragged breath the only sound breaking the stillness. "I know you hear me, Demon! I know..." Even if the beast could hear her, he wasn’t going to answer, not until she surrendered. In a fit of fury, she flew to her feet, wobbling precariously on the beam. Footing barely gained, she let out a screech:  “I know  you can hear me!” There was no response. 

Yusraa stared down into the depths of the cavern, eyes wide and unfocused, and for the first time considered dishonor. She couldn’t die here, no, she knew that, but maybe if she dishonored herself enough, she could get placed in a lower hell. Maybe she could- her body was carrying her forward before she could even finish the thought. Two paces and her third landed her in open air. She didn’t scream as she fell, doubted she even had the strength to. She’d need whatever fortitude she had left to scrape herself off the floor once she hit. 

Her body twisted, buffeted by the wind as she tumbled down through the open air. There was so much space in this place, so much room between the beams and the gold covered floor. She couldn’t breath. She realized that after a few moments. The wind pushing at her was so strong, she couldn’t force her lungs to expand and contract.  She gaped like one of the long silver fish she’d seen in her youth, brought back in stacks on the spears of her people's sea-farers. She remembered how their dead eyes had looked upon the world and seen nothing. She wondered if her own did the same now. Had she died with her eyes open on the mountain? Did her body still lie there, cold and blue and held together by the frost? Her eyes slid shut slowly and she let herself surrender to the vicious pull of gravity. For ten blissful seconds she fell in silence, the comforting press of unconsciousness wrapping around her. The ground was near, she was sure of it and she readied herself for the hit. 

Instead of the slam of cold stone, she felt a pair of thick, corded arms wrap around her and yank her sharply to the side. The jolt of being snatched from the air forced her lungs to expand and the black at the edges of her vision to clear. The ground was close and she felt a sudden rush of fear, but a pair of wings soon shielded her from it. He flipped her at the last second so her head was against his chest and twisted so he'd land first. She felt the jolt of them slamming into one of the piles of gold and the tinkle of coins as they tumbled down it, head over heel.

When they finally came to rest at the bottom, his wings fell slowly, sliding off of her and  splaying open beneath him. She could hear her heart thudding, still hear the wind screaming in her ears. Fear had constricted her throat at the last minute, made her weak, made her realize what she'd done. She'd brought dishonor down upon herself and her house. Even in death, this was unforgivable. A lump rose in her throat and she felt a misting in her eyes she hadn't known since she was a child. She pushed at the demon's chest, trying to rise, but her held her fast, arms constricting around her waist. She cursed in frustration and slammed her fists against his chest. "Release me!" He sighed in what sounded like irritation and let her beat out her anger on him. She had to make herself angry. To cry in front of  one's enemy was weakness, she'd learned this from Askasil when she was young. She would swallow her pain and turn it into power. 

Without warning, the demon flipped them over, arms braced on either side of her head. "Stop." He ordered, Yusraa snarled and he growled back at her, deep in his throat. He snatched both her wrists in his hands and stretched them out above her head. She felt the familiar tug of her arms being stretched to their limit, but she refused to cry out. She gritted her teeth and met his golden eyes in defiance. Yusraa brought her knees up and jammed her feet into his stomach. He dropped the full weight of himself onto her, forcing her legs apart and she hooked them around his hips, trying to roll them over to no avail. The demon was heavy and his skin was hot to the touch. He seemed to be smoldering from the inside out and as he dropped his head closer to hers, she swore she could see flames flickering behind his eyes. His mouth was only centimeters from her own now, his black locks brushing against her forehead. 

"Still."  Something about the tone of his voice sent chills down her spine and she saw, for the first time up close, the danger she was in. She stopped struggling against his hold and tensed beneath it, chest still heaving in fear that had arrived too late to keep her from jumping. She was scared, and the dragon knew it, and he was using it against her. His massive hand slipped from her wrists slowly, but when she made a move to sit up, her pressed it against the middle of her chest and pushed her back down. "Be. Still."  And so, the former warrior was made to lie on the ground while the demon checked her meticulously for injuries.  When he'd reached her ribcage and determined that she hadn't hurt herself or broken any bones in her free fall, he paused for a moment, palms framing her lungs. 

"No wait.”  When she didn't answer, his grip on her tightened and she felt the pinpricks of his claws pressing against her skin. She just wanted to be left alone. Couldn't he just leave her be? "Why?" He’d been practicing, or remembered more words of the language of the northern Haradrim. It was only a matter of time, she supposed. Those to the North dealt frequently with the dark forces and he and his kind had been created by The Adversary. He’d have dealt with them before. He sounded disgusted with her, as if a demon had a right to be disgusted about anything. He rolled off of her and rose, spine straightening  as he shook his wings out. There were bruises on the scale-less areas of his skin in the shapes of the gold coins they'd fallen on. 

"Must there be a reason?" She saw a spark in the dragon's eyes and his lip curled, warning her to tread lightly. Yusraa pushed ahead anyway, well aware of the danger she was walking in to. "I have no cause to answer to you." The dragon moved so fast, she hardly had time to register what was happening. He snatched her from the ground, one massive hand wrapped round her throat. She tried to cry out, but the noise was cut short, lack of air making it quiet. The demon hefted her up above him and her legs dangled. She supposed she might find the image comical had she not been gasping for breath. The dragon sneered at her. His grip tightened and she clawed at his hands as he lifted her. The Haradrim struggled, her feet searching desperately for the floor. It was a clear warning for her to stop, but she would not. Whether he harmed her or not, whether he burned her again or tore into her, she would be heard.  "You murdered my sister." Her voice was quiet and hoarse , but he heard her.   The demon bared his teeth in a strange display of savage beauty that almost resembled a smile. 

“ _ Obey _ .”She didn't know where it came from, what foul demon gave her the strength, but a wave of hatred welled up in her, so strong that it darkened the corners of her vision. Yusraa snarled and raked her nails down his face, clawing and ripping at him like her life depended on it. It had, once. She knew she couldn't have fought the demon on the slopes of Erebor and won, no one could, but now here in this hell, there was a chance for her. Pain be damned, she couldn't die again and she'd fight like it. The dragon bellowed and dropped her. Her nails had glanced off of his cheeks and forehead, but the skin beneath his eyes was sensitive and welling with blood. He clutched at his face and the woman took the opportunity to launch herself at him. She slammed into him, shoulder first, and he spread his wings to keep his balance but it was too late. She toppled him backward and straddled his chest, raising her fists to slam them down on his face.  He hooked his hands around her thighs and pulled viciously, trying to get her under him again, but she slammed her fists down as one onto the bridge of his nose. It would've shattered any human man's face but the dragon merely grunted in pain. Yusraa screamed in frustration and fastened her hands round his throat. 

"Her name..." The warrior's chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her ears, but she drove her hands still tighter around his neck. "..was Askasil  and now she walks in glory because she died bringing honor to our people. You are not fit to lick the dust from her feet."

She saw the dragon's hand swinging toward her, but it seemed by the time she acknowledged it, her world had already gone dark.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm currently searching for a few beta readers for this story and Fracture. I'm almost done with teh second one and I intend to make edits to it. If you do help me out, expect to be rewarded with fic (of your OCs, if that's your style) and lots of love and my eternal gratitude. 
> 
> You can get in contact with me here, or at my tumblr: thannywrites.tumblr.com
> 
> Prompt me!


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